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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468754">Netflix and Chill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse'>PenguinofProse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Firefighter Bellamy, Fluff, Pining with a fluffy ending, just general silliness tbh, password silliness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:09:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bellamy has an awkward Netflix password.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>236</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Netflix and Chill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyZouzou/gifts">OnlyZouzou</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So here's nominally a gift for Zou but also thanks Brooke for the Twitter post and I guess just happy day after Valentine's anyone who's reading? Anyway this is firefighter Bellamy and secretly pining Clarke and a bunch of foolishness about Netflix passwords. Happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy thinks it's a good password, when he first chooses it. No one would guess that his Netflix password is <em>iloveclarkegriffin</em>. It's the last thing anyone would expect. Clarke Griffin is nothing to him, or so the world thinks. She is simply an annoying friend of a friend, all argument and attitude. She's a pain in his ass, and they bicker all the time.</p><p>But she's also a pain in his <em>heart</em>, more than he likes to admit. She has been catching his interest ever since they first met, more or less. She's beautiful and smart and all that fiery attitude would be great in bed – he just knows it. But she's kind, too, more soft-hearted than she likes to let on, and capable of laughing out loud when she's having fun.</p><p>So that's why he falls for her. That's why his love confession is his Netflix password. Because his love for Clarke is so improbable, so unexpected, so <em>silly</em>, that he thinks he deserves to have a little in-joke with himself about it.</p><p>…...</p><p>Fast forward four years, and the circumstances are rather different. Clarke is his freely acknowledged best friend, these days. That bickering and banter has settled into warm humour and steadfast loyalty. She doesn't try to hide it when she's feeling concern for him, now, doesn't try to cover it with a bluster of bluff humour.</p><p>They're roommates, too. They share an address, and a TV, and eat supper together almost every night. It's everything Bellamy ever dreamed of – except that Clarke does not love him as he loves her, of course.</p><p>Because only two key things have not changed, in the last four years – his Netflix password, and his feelings for Clarke.</p><p>He's come to terms with their circumstances, more or less. He can pine hopelessly for her from the other end of the couch, pretend he only craves her company out of friendship. Sure, he sometimes gets a bit of a lurch in his stomach when he sees her playing with his little niece and thinks it would be wonderful for them to have a child of their own together. But he's coping with it, more or less.</p><p>He's coping, until the day it all comes crashing down.</p><p>He's a firefighter, so he's used to drama. When he gets the phone call from Miller telling him he's needed at work, he doesn't bat an eyelid. He simply turns to Clarke with a resigned sigh. He was hoping for a sweet afternoon on the couch with her on this rare occasion their shifts have lined up, but duty calls.</p><p>"I have to go in. Big fire at some warehouse at the edge of town." He tells her.</p><p>She nods at once, face tight. "Take care. Look after yourself."</p><p>He smiles slightly. She always says something like that, every time there's some big emergency to deal with.</p><p>He swallows and prepares his next question. "Can I ask you a huge favour? I'm supposed to be getting Dora from kindergarten and babysitting her this evening...?"</p><p>"I'll get her. Sure. No problem." Clarke pipes up at once.</p><p>Bellamy nods. He stands up, starts shoving his feet into his shoes. He needs to -</p><p>He is stopped, rather abruptly, by a pair of warm arms closing around his waist.</p><p>"<em>Please</em> stay safe." Clarke whispers against his neck.</p><p>"I'll do my best." He says. He can't promise anything, can he? That's how this job works.</p><p>He squeezes her tight against him for a second longer, then heads out the door.</p><p>…...</p><p>It's a big fire, but actually reasonably routine. There is no one in the warehouse, so it's just a case of containing the blaze and then subduing it. The biggest concern? There's an electric substation just next door, which seems to have taken some damage. Bellamy is very aware that electricity and fire hoses do not mix, but he simply stands on the other side of the warehouse and does his job as he is ordered. He's got better at staying calm and following orders. Back when he first started his career, he used to want to run into danger to save people at every opportunity. These days, he understands that he can't get much done by acting alone.</p><p>He's told to take a break, a couple of hours in. He sidles off, thinking he might take a piss and grab a snack before he rotates back in.</p><p>But he never makes it that far, because he checks his phone. Seven missed calls from Clarke, and a brief text.</p><p>
  <em>Call me</em>
</p><p>No shit. <em>Obviously</em> he's going to call her if she's left seven missed calls. There must have been some kind of major crisis at home, he fears. Something to do with Dora? Is she sick or injured? Some other kind of disaster?</p><p>He dials Clarke's number right away.</p><p>"What's going on?" He asks, the second she picks up.</p><p>She sighs loudly. "Thank god. You're OK. I just – Dora wouldn't settle. She was freaking out about you being at work, she knew that meant something was up. And the fire's all over the local news. I was trying to distract her with Netflix but then it said I needed the password? The TV box forgot all the passwords when the power went out. And now -"</p><p>"Hang on. One thing at a time, Clarke." He begs, a little exasperated. He's the one fighting a fire, here. He can't figure out what's going on with her. She sounds <em>panicky</em>, but that's not like Clarke.</p><p>"The power went out. Is it the substation? They said something about that on the news. And when it came back on again the TV forgot all the passwords. So I need the Netflix password so I can distract Dora."</p><p>He swallows tightly. She phoned him seven times, apparently hysterical, because she needs his Netflix password? No. He's not buying it.</p><p>"Clarke? What's really going on?"</p><p>"I need your Netflix password." She repeats, firm. "I've given Dora a snack but that's only going to keep her quiet for another ten minutes tops."</p><p>"You need my Netflix password because the power went out for a bit." He repeats, short, incredulous.</p><p>"Yes." She insists, stubborn.</p><p>He sighs. He can well believe she might need his Netflix password. But he certainly doesn't believe that's the reason why she called him seven times.</p><p>"It's <em>iloveclarkegriffin</em>. All lower case." He rushes through the words, embarrassed, but just wanting this strange conversation to be over.</p><p>"What? I didn't catch that."</p><p>"I love Clarke Griffin. All lower case." He repeats, more clearly.</p><p>There's a beat of perfect silence. Or at least no sound comes from the phone, while all around him he can hear the roar of water and the shouting of firefighters.</p><p>He really should have gone for a piss and a snack, he thinks sourly.</p><p>"Bellamy -"</p><p>He hangs up on her. He simply ends the call. He has work to do, here, and he cannot be distracted by the mess he's currently making of his nonexistent love life.</p><p>He puts his phone away safely and gets back to work.</p><p>…...</p><p>Bellamy doesn't check his phone again for another four hours. The blaze is smouldering, now, and Bellamy is one of the dozen or so folks who have been sent home to get some rest before their actual shift starts in the morning.</p><p>He looks at his phone on the drive back to the station. He's not sure why, really. Morbid curiosity? Wondering how bad it is, and whether he should take a train to Canada instead of walking home tonight?</p><p>No, he can't do that. He should get home and take over on babysitting Dora.</p><p>He's somewhat surprised to find that he has four missed calls from Clarke. That seems like something she wouldn't have bothered with, if she was totally freaked out by his implicit confession.</p><p>There's a text, too. A very interesting text.</p><p>
  <em>If I had a Netflix account, my password would be B3llamyBlak3sFr3ckl3s. Numbers and capitals are much better for security. Hope you're staying safe out there. Xx</em>
</p><p>He tries very hard to unpick that, on the journey back to the station, and then on the walk home. If she's teasing him about password security, he can't have made things too terribly awkward, right? And if she's suggesting she has an interest in his <em>freckles</em>, he likes to think that might mean something promising. Not to mention, she put two actual <em>X</em>s at the end of the text, and they've been firmly in the soft smiley emoji friendzone for years.</p><p>But he still can't figure out why she's suddenly started leaving him missed calls and acting so unlike herself.</p><p>It makes a little more sense when he opens the door of the apartment. Clarke is pacing the hallway, and then she's very suddenly in his arms, hugging him so tight it's a struggle to stand upright, exhausted as he is.</p><p>"You're OK. You're in one piece." She mutters, squeezing her arms tight around his waist.</p><p>He frowns into her hair. "I'm fine, Clarke. Tired but fine."</p><p>"Thank God. They said on the news that a couple of firefighters had been hospitalised and I – I might have lost it a little." She gives a nervous laugh.</p><p>Oh. <em>Oh</em>. That makes a lot more sense, actually. Clarke is normally very calm and collected – except when the people she cares about are in danger. Then she can become rather more erratic, in his experience. He never realised the media had already got hold of that piece of information, otherwise he might have started putting two and two together earlier.</p><p>"They're fine too. Murphy broke his leg falling up the pavement – he was so embarrassed. And then this new guy, Atom, with smoke inhalation. They'll both be out soon."</p><p>"I was worried it was you." She says softly. "I knew calling you every five seconds wouldn't help. You were working, you obviously weren't going to pick up the phone. But I had to <em>try</em>. It felt like there was nothing else I could do."</p><p>"But then you kept calling even <em>after</em> you knew I was fine?" He recalls, frowning.</p><p>She laughs, a short, strained sound. "Well, yeah. You told me your Netflix password is <em>iloveclarkegriffin</em> and then hung up on me. <em>Obviously</em> I tried calling you again after that."</p><p>"Oh. Right. Yeah – sorry for springing that on you." He draws his arms away from the hug instinctively. He's probably not supposed to be touching her while they figure their way out of this mess he has made.</p><p>She doesn't let him go. As he draws back, she steps forward, pressing him right up against the front door he just closed behind him.</p><p>"Is it true?" She asks softly, looking up at him.</p><p>He swallows, bobs a short nod.</p><p>And then she's kissing him. She's pressing her lips to his, tangling her hands in his hair, reaching up to kiss him as deeply as she is able. He helps her out, bending down to her in turn, relishing the taste of her and the feel of her. She's here, in his arms, not fleeing across the country at the revelation of his love, and it's incredible.</p><p>He pulls away first. He knows he must.</p><p>"Can we put this on pause while I go see to Dora?" He asks quietly. "I'm sorry, you have no idea how badly I want this. But she ought to have her bath time."</p><p>"Already done." Clarke says smartly. "She's asleep. There's some food in the kitchen for you. You want to go take a shower and I'll make you a plate?"</p><p>He laughs tiredly, lets his head sag until his face is resting against her hair. "I love you." He whispers. He loved her anyway, of course, but he loves her even more in this moment, if that's even possible.</p><p>"I love you too." She murmurs right back. "In case that wasn't clear. Now go get yourself comfortable."</p><p>He nods, reaches in for one more kiss. He showers quickly, because he knows that if he showers slowly he will fall asleep where he stands. He debates what to wear, then throws on sweatpants and a comfy tee. Clarke has seen him dressed like this plenty of times before now. She's not going to call off this new romance blossoming between them, not going to suddenly stop loving him just because he's dressed rather informally.</p><p>He makes it back to the living room, flops down onto the couch. Clarke shoves a warm bowl of pasta into his lap and a fork into his hand.</p><p>She's a good woman, is his Clarke. She knows that he cannot handle more than carbohydrates and a fork, right now. She leans against him as he starts to eat, curls under his left arm while he stabs at his pasta with a fork in his right.</p><p>"I'm sorry. I'm too tired to be much fun." He admits, feeling rather self-conscious about it. Isn't he supposed to be sweeping her off her feet right about now, carrying her manfully to his bed?</p><p>"It's OK. We've got all the time in the world to spend together. For tonight it's OK that you're tired. Eat your pasta. We can just chill in front of Netflix."</p><p>There's a beat of silence. Then she seems to realise what she's said, starts laughing loudly.</p><p>"I'm sorry." She splutters. "I don't mean <em>Netflix and chill</em>. Not unless you're up for that, I mean. But – you seemed tired. So really, if you just want to -"</p><p>He cuts her off with a kiss. He probably tastes like pasta, but really, who cares? Clarke certainly doesn't appear to object in the slightest.</p><p>She kisses him back for a few seconds, then falls away to snuggle deeper under his arm with a pointed look down at his supper.</p><p>Right. Yes. Pasta. Netflix. Rest.</p><p>"I'm probably not too tired for that. I guess – I'm pretty motivated, you know? I've been waiting a while. Once I've eaten and sat down a few minutes I'll probably be good to go."</p><p>"Good to know. I'm looking forward to it." She says, cheeky, picking up the remote and starting to faff with the TV. "How long, by the way?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"How long have you been waiting?"</p><p>He swallows. That's because he's eating pasta, obviously, not because he's nervous. Clarke <em>loves</em> him, and he can answer this question without ruining that.</p><p>At least, he hopes he can.</p><p>"I got Netflix four years ago. I've had the same password all that time. Does that answer your question?"</p><p>She nods, turns it into a slight snuggle against his chest. And then she says something that surprises him.</p><p>"I win. The passcode on my laptop? It's been your birthday since three weeks after we met."</p><p>He laughs, presses a kiss to the crown of her head. It looks like he needs to up his password game.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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